


Made for Me

by Shan282



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shan282/pseuds/Shan282
Summary: Soulmates are a funny thing. There are all sorts of movies about people finding the person they were meant to be with and yet very rarely did it happen.
Relationships: John Seed/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Made for Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cats_Obsessions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cats_Obsessions/gifts).



> My piece from the Far Cry 5 2019 holiday exchange. It was honestly such a joy to write. Thank you @farcry5-obsessions for trusting me with Nora. I absolutely adored writing her and John.

Soulmates are a funny thing. There are all sorts of movies about people finding the person they were meant to be with and yet very rarely did it happen. It was hard to find someone with the exact same freckles as you. There were entire websites dedicated to matching distinct patterns together and still the number of people who actually found their other half was less than a million.

Nora had never understood how it all worked when she was little, if she was being honest she still didn’t totally understand it but at this point, she’d accepted it. Her skin reflected her soulmate’s: if she scraped her knee they got a scar; if they broke their nose she woke up with her's a little crooked.

She wasn’t sure when the first scar had appeared, her mother was never specific but Nora always suspected some of the smaller ones had always been there. Silvery speckles decorated her palms, presumably from where her soulmate had fallen over and over again, causing the wounds to scar over.

If she compared pictures of herself through the years she could see the evolution of the markings across her body. Her nose had got a little crooked when she was 11, a paper-thin scar had appeared on her cheek when she was 8.

She never thought much about it at first, what the collection of injuries implied. It wasn’t until her stepsister had gasped when they’d been changing that she realized the scars were probably something wrong. A smattering of lashes were scattered across her back. It wasn’t too hard to figure out they were the scars from being beat with something like a belt or a whip, though her dad said belt seemed more plausible based on the pattern.

The first tattoo appeared when Nora was 15, a cross on her left wrist. She hadn’t noticed it at first, it hadn’t been until her 4th period when someone asked about it that she realized it was even there.

When she was 18, Nora got her own tattoo, a small black plane on her collar bone. She’d always liked watching planes fly by her house when she was little so it just felt right. The next day there were two more planes alongside it, the trio forming a “V” formation. It’d brought a smile to her face to see her soulmate adding on to what she’d started.

After that, the tattoos came in waves. She’d wake up to five new ones, then nothing for months. There were more planes over the years, lots more planes. She contributed her own occasionally, a crescent moon on one arm, the next year a dove. Her soulmate had added on to that one, surrounded the bird with a halo of leaves and a cherub reaching for it. Just like with the planes before, the addition warmed her heart, she saw it as an unspoken appreciation and solidarity.

They had been the biggest factor in the decision as to what she should major in, of course, there had been other factors but in the end, it came back to her soulmate. No one helped them when they were going through hell so she wanted to do her part and help someone else.

Two weeks before her graduation Nora had woken up to find her knuckles covered in scars. Some of them were barely visible but others stuck out, evidence towards the severity of the injuries she deduced. That same day she’d gotten a peacock feather tattooed on her arm. A symbol of protection, in hopes that her soulmate, whoever they were, might learn this and know that she cared. She couldn’t do much but if she could give them even a sliver of hope she would try.

Nora woke up to a heavy throbbing behind her eyes, she didn’t dare open her eyes. Icy water lapped at the side her face, mud and silt soaked into her hair and clothes, covering her arms. The bliss in her blood made her limbs heavy and the world around her sound like her head was underwater, maybe it was. Someone shouted, the sound melding with the rest swirling around her head. The voices grew louder as the drugs from her mind cleared.

When she finally did open her eyes, it was to a dark sky, stars poking out from behind wisps of clouds. The air smelled like pine needles and rain; if it weren’t for the cultists prowling around the edge of her vision like vultures on a carcass she might even say it was peaceful.

She tried to lift her head but the head still spun a bit, her stomach doing flips when she even considered sitting up. A cultist crossed her vision, drawing her attention to another body on the ground near her, she was certain there would be more if she could just look around.

“This one?” The cultist asked, his voice reached her like he was a thousand feet underwater.

“No,” Another walked in front of Nora, his finger pointed at her. She suddenly realized the stars weren’t just in the sky but also swirling and twirling all around her. The man kept eye contact with her as he passed.

“Don’t seem very worthy.”

“It is not for us to judge.” A pause, the cultist above her swam in and out of focus. “Deliver her unto the waters. The Cleansing begins tonight.”

Nora’s eyes fell closed again as she was lifted up, her head slumping forward. The thought alone of trying to keep her head up was exhausting. It felt like a million tons of brick had made itself at home in her skull.

She must have blacked out, for when she came to again it was to muffled preaching and her lungs screaming for air. She opened her eyes to a rippling face above her holding her until ice-cold water that threatened to fill her lungs as it worked to numb her body. Now she wasn’t sure what were the effects of the leftover bliss pumping through her heart and what were side effects from the river’s attempt to freeze her.

“We must wash away our past. We must expose our sins.”

She’d been in harrowing situations before, this should be nothing new. She had been trained for situations like this, well maybe not this exactly. She was supposed to keep a level head, think through the situation rationally, use what she’s spent years learning to find a way to get herself out of this.

Instead, her mind shut itself down. Maybe it was a vain attempt to protect herself from the horror she was living. Perhaps she’d just been through too much too fast and the stress had finally broken her. Regardless, her mind was empty, her body taking over as panic filled her chest and she wailed, her voice lost before it reached the surface of the water.

“We must atone…”

The hands gripping her shoulders pulled her up, her knees threatening to buckle. Nora took a shaking step forward, the cultist holding her up.

“For only then may we stand in the light of God and walk through his Gate unto Eden.”

She looked up to see a pair of lights far off, maybe a car’s headlights, she wasn’t sure. A man, her brain was functioning well enough to recognize his voice as John Seed, stood feet from her. His body obscured one of the lights and the fuzzy, swaying of her vision made it look like a halo around his head.

She was walked forward slowly, her eyes never leaving him as he blessed the newly baptized and spoke passionately from the text in his hand. Each step felt easier until she was almost striding forward only stopping when she was in front of John. He closed his book, looking her in the eye with distrust and contention. She couldn’t say she blamed him, she’d been wrecking hell for the cult and he likely thought it was her fault this had all happened. If Joseph was to be believed it was all her fault.

Nora spared a second to looked down, her eyes catching on the word ‘sloth’ carved into his chest and crossed out. Her heart clenched and a hand involuntarily went to her own chest to cover her own marking, currently concealed by the shirt she had on.

“Not this one,” John spoke, his voice cold, and his arm darted out to stop the man leading her. He took a sure step forward as he handed off his book. His eyes dropped momentarily to glance at her hand before meeting her eyes again. “I’ll deal with her personally.”

“But—“ John cut whatever the man was going to say with a wave of his hand, the other wrapping around her arm and pulling her forwards towards the cars.

Nora was lifted into the backseat. John didn’t speak a word, silently waving off the people that offered to come with him.

“We’re fine. Finish up here. This one needs my personal attention.”

By the time John pulled the car to a stop again, Nora’s world had stopped spinning and the stars in her vision had gone away. John remained silent as he opened her car door and lead her into his ranch. Now that she wasn’t drugged to hell or on the verge of drowning and her brain decided to start working again she only felt confused.

“What am I doing here?” She questioned as the door clicked shut behind her. John’s back was to her and she heard him sigh before he turned back around.

“Those marks on your hand, your tattoos, did you get them yourself?”

“I— no. What’s it to you?” Her confusion turned into distrust, she tried to cover the hand in question with her other only to quickly realize she was putting those marks on display as well.

“Your soulmate’s?”

“Yes…?” Her heart fluttered with anxiety at the direction the conversation seemed to be going in.

Wordlessly, John nodded and reached up to unbutton his shirt. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he dropped the crisp blue material to the floor.

Her heart clenched at the sight, the same marks that hard disfigured and decorated her own skin were perfectly reflected on his. He took a deep breath and she watched the Eden’s Gate symbol on his stomach swell and the trio of planes below his collarbone rise as if they were flying. The scar on his ribs stretched and she didn’t hesitate to reach out, her hand connecting with warm skin and covering the old wound.

“Can I?” John asked after what felt like 10 minutes of silence. Nora nodded and pulled her own shirt over her head so she stood in front of him in her bra. He looked as amazed as she’d felt at the sight. His hand reached out and ran along her arm, thumb rubbing slow circles over the peacock feather there. The other came up to rest over the ‘sloth’ in her skin.

“I’ll be honest, I never expected to meet you.” His voice was quiet, his eyes filled with a cascade of emotions as he met hers once again.

“Neither did I, but here we are.” Nora smiled and for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last five minutes her heart clenched as he returned her smile.

“Here we are.” He repeated, unable to keep the joy from his voice. His composed mask slipped and he pulled her into a tight embrace. He clung to her like she might disappear at any moment and if she was being honest, Nora did the same.

When they finally broke apart enough to look up at each other, Nora raised a hand to cup his jaw. She ran her thumb against a long healed scar on his cheekbone and smiled at how unreal this all felt.

She didn’t wait a second longer, pushing herself up to capture his lips with her own. The two moved in perfect sync until they had to break away again to breathe, their foreheads pressed together.

“We’re soulmates,” John said aloud, a light giggle on the edge of his voice. Nora nodded, her forehead bumping his with each moment.

“We are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so I never actually posted this, I forgot to actually hit post. Whoops.


End file.
